The Happy Factory
by A S T R O - I C A R U S
Summary: What if you were a child who's family wasn't in best shape, but someone - no - something captures you and takes you to a pink factory, The Happy Factory they call it, so that you could be taught lessons on how to be happy? You probably wouldn't feel like Lucas: depressed, detached and on the verge of insanity... Or would you? (Insert dundundun here.)
1. Dry and Unblinking

**The Happy Factory**

**Notes**: What if there was a musical called "My Herpes are Yours"? I swear to God-

**Disclaimer**: Lucas and Ness aren't mine. SSBB, LoZ The Wind Waker and Earthbound aren't mine either. Wtf I typed in "either" and my computer auto corrected it and made it "ditherer" just now wtf is a ditherer why does it sound like a horny cowboy "hi im ditherer and im here to shove my pistol up your

The Adventures of Ditherer the Horny Cowboy brb lemme just make this happen

And btw I'm not sure if this is angst or not but hey Lucas seems pretty blue so *throws hands up*.

**- X -**

_**Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.**_

**- Ray Bradbury**

**- X -**

Cerulean eyes, unblinking and becoming dry, stared at the brightly painted wall before him. The spring green carpet that he lay on was itchy, uncomfortable, but he didn't care. A sunflower clock ticked away in a corner of the four wall space and laughing could be heard in the rooms across from and beside his room. He was unmoving, cold, seemingly lifeless. Though he was alive. His heart still thumped in his small chest and the breaths he breathed were soft and slow. He had tried many times to just stop breathing, but he was too afraid to.

One time he tried. He'd almost met her again. She stood at the gates, waiting, smiling, her wine-red dress flapped and her chocolate-brown tresses became tangled in the wind. Before he could touch her hand and join her, he'd begin breathing again, and tears would burn his eyes and fall carelessly down his cheeks.

The ticking of the sunflower clock was long ago annoying. Now, it was just something that had etched its way into the blond's head. What was the point of the clock? Whether it was day or night, kids, teens and adults were awake, laughing with or at each other in pleasure. They were so loud. Why were they so loud? The boy could remember hearing the sharp crack of a whip and a mix of crying and screaming. The boy could remember people yelling and screeching in complete and utter anger going back and forth at each other. The boy could remember beds creaking and scraping across the floorboards, cries of ecstasy following each thump on the wall. There were so many sounds here in the Happy Factory.

Lucas only wished that he was deaf so that he wouldn't be able to hear the many noises that rebounded off of the pink walls of the crazy house. Nor did he want the ability to talk to those berserk idiots The Council thought were doctors. All of the doctors were mad. As mad as March hares.

The Council hated Lucas because he wouldn't become happy. He could never become happy, not with the way he was living.

All of the other kids who were happy had the privilege to escape the confines of the Happy Factory, using the lessons of happiness in their life so that they could all be joyful. So that they could all live longer.

But none of it worked with the withered blond. He was like a failed experiment that the doctors continuously poked at. What was the use of teaching the things they thought were going to work, didn't? The kids disliked him also. They disliked him because he wouldn't become happy. They glared at him whenever he was dragged down a much too high-spirited hallway and threw hard candies at him, some bigger children forcing him to eat it. They picked up the dirty candy and shoved their bloody hands in his mouth, waiting for Lucas to swallow, though he never did. It was useless.

Pathetic.

It disgusted Lucas how much they tried and failed.

Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Just plain insanity.

Just plain stupidity.

* * *

Lucas sat at his opalescent desk, waiting for the lesson of the day to begin. Today's lesson probably had something to do with learning how to laugh at un-funny jokes, just so that the person telling the joke wouldn't feel bad, or something else that was completely ludicrous. It was like this once a week. Or once every three days. He would be dragged out of his sunflower themed room and to an obnoxiously bright classroom with no windows. The walls were covered with childish pictures painted with innocence, photographs taken by beings of skill.

The boy that sat before Lucas, Link, or "Toon" Link (the doctors added "Toon" so that his name could sound funnier), sat and his shoulder blades moved along with his arms. Glancing over his shoulder, Lucas tried to spot what the boy was doing now.

Triangles.

Simple, yellow triangles.

Toon Link continued to draw triangles. When he wasn't paying attention (which was kind of all the time), Toon Link would bring out all types of yellow utensils; lemon-colored sharpies, highlighters, sunny crayons and honey watercolors. He'd compose pictures of all types and sizes of triangles with three smaller ones on the inside. "Triforce" is what he called it.

Oh, the imagination that Toon Link had that Lucas didn't.

Floating at the hot pink desk in front of the class was Mr. Crazy. He was a _hand_ that was about the size of a small child's bedroom. The glove that he wore over his most likely scarred hand was a bright white, but had colorful paint splatters and crayon markings.

Mr. Crazy was demented. Demented he was indeed.

He yelled and jested at adolescents, often poking fun at them, calling them stupid or even touching them in a way that they probably wouldn't want to be touched. But obviously that student didn't care, else they would've said something about it. But they never did. Why?

Because if they refused to go along with Mr. Crazy's advances and intentions, you'd never see that child again. Honestly, it was hard to believe that Lucas was still trudging the rainbow tiles below his feet.

Jumping from his desk and standing before the class in an air of authority, Mr. Crazy directed the class, his booming voice reaching the back of the room with no problem. He talked and talked about "happy, happy fun times" with your friends and in bed. But Lucas was lonely and didn't have friends. There was no way for him to experience these "happy, happy fun times". Lucas could wish that he had friends, but no one in the Happy Factory desired to be his friend. Sometimes he considered Toon Link his friend, but when it was time to partner up for group activities, Toon Link would run across the room and sit beside that Tetra girl or, as Mr. Crazy called her, Tetralina.

He'd be the only independent classmate, but it wasn't like Lucas had a problem with that.

"Mr. Sloth?"

Attention directed to the hand that was now at his desk. Why hadn't Lucas seen him coming? Reverie broken, Lucas focused his cerulean eyes on Mr. Crazy.

"Try to actually pay attention in class, yeah? I won't always stop because you're floating off in Dreamland."

"What's Dreamland?" A kid asked.

"Dreamland? Why, young one, Dreamland is a beautiful place, where it's always nighttime."

"What's nighttime?"

Lucas rolled his eyes and placed his hand on his chin. The questions and explanations continued and after some time, he began going back to _Dreamland_. It was so easy to drown out people's voices and just _think_. Think about romance, good scenarios, your favorite food even. Lucas's favorite food was a breakfast omelet. He loved them when his mother made them. She would always throw in a little extra egg and cheese in his.

"MR. SLOTH."

Uh oh, caught again.

Attention refocused and suddenly there were two hands at the front of the classroom. It was Mister Master. Mister Master was now there. He was the head honcho of the Happy Factory, leader of all things happy and fun. He was the thing that had captured Lucas and brought him here. Even though he was a hand, he could actually see him… _smiling_. But not a Mr. Crazy smile (something that would most likely be creepy beyond measure). One that voiced sympathy and trying. One that sounded old age with a wise cranium. Lucas liked Mister Master more than Mr. Crazy.

"Lucas?"

Hearing his name sounded so foreign to the blond's ears. Usually it was Mr. Sloth or Sunflower Boy, but only Nana and Popo called him Sunflower Boy.

"Lucas, would you come with me, please?"

Lucas blinked, but soon obliged. He didn't want to be in there anymore anyway. Toon Link tilted his head and smiled a smile that a cat would smile. Why was he smiling? There was nothing to smile about.

Toon Link waved.

Toon Link is lucky that he didn't hear the crazed screaming coming from the other end of the hallway once Lucas had exited the room.

Toon Link is lucky that he's deaf.

* * *

_Mrah I kinda had this in my files for quit some time. And someone tell me if this is angst or not so that I can stop scratching a hole to my brain (a woman actually did that in real life THE MOAR YOU KNOW  
look it up if you suckers don't believe me. ; n ; __)_

_Please review!_

_And anticipate chapter two! *flies away*_


	2. New Roomie

**The Happy Factory**

**Notes: **Okay so my mom noticed something:

Sentence : **The flower's petals were messed with by the wind.**

Me : **The tiny efflorescing floret had its delicate and timid petals ruffled by the intimate caress of Mother Nature's breath. **

What. _The. _**FUCK.**

Mom, do I really describe everything like this? **Is that good**? Holy shit what is wrong with me? **Is that good**? Why did I have to describe it with such distinctness? _**IS THAT GOOD**_?

I'm scared guys. The first sentence was so simple.

And then here comes my sentence fucking struttin' it down the goddamn runway with moar sass than the sass master.

And the Final Destination song gives me chills. Whoo.

**Disclaimer: **The only thing Nintendo gave me was a Wii that I don't really play anymore.

* * *

He didn't tug him by his bright yellow jumpsuit or yell at him to quicken his pace. His voice didn't become angry when Lucas hesitated at his office door and he certainly showed no discomposure when Lucas silently refused to sit in the shiny purple recliner that sat before Mister Master's desk. Lucas stood behind the chair, feeling too awkward and bothered to get comfortable. No matter how nice he was, Mister Master called the shots and he usually never did it with uncertainty. It was either this or that; yes or no; one or the other. There were no maybes or I thinks.

If Mister Master ordered someone to rape and abuse and even possibly kill Lucas they'd do it with no questions, refusals or complaints. That's the Happy Factory for you.

Mister Master messed with a few papers on his desk and shoved a box of tissues to the side. He placed a folder with a sunflower on it and a folder with a baseball on it in the clear spot. Then there was silence. Lucas could here people outside the door yelling and laughing. What was Mister Master going to do? What was he going to say? Was Lucas finally being let out into the outside world? Would he be executed like his pessimistic brain thought would happen? There were so many possibilities of what might happen, and Mister Master always had a trick up his glove. Lucas didn't want to know what kind of tricks those were.

"Lucas," Mister Master began, "I've been receiving complaints."

Lucas was silent.

"Complaints from the doctors as well as the other children. Complaints that you aren't happy," Mister Master began tapping his desk, his fingers falling in four slow thumps each time. "You don't look happy. You never seem happy. What's the matter? Why aren't you happy?"

Lucas wanted to scream all the problems out, to yell at this figure of authority of why he wasn't happy. If he could list all the reasons of why he wasn't happy, he'd probably need about a hundred pens and miles and miles of paper. He wanted to cry, to sob, to hiccup to Mister Master about why he was so unhappy; why he so dreaded the place he was in at this moment. He took Lucas from home, forced him into a hell of happy colors and smashing fun and expected him to be happy. Why couldn't he had just left him be? Lucas wanted to say all this. Tell him why he wasn't happy and ask the rhetorical questions. The sweet taste of truth was right at the tip of his tongue. He could've said something.

Though Lucas stayed completely silent.

Mister Master sighed. Lucas liked Mister Master, but not a whole lot. "Lucas, I need you to speak. If you could help me understand, then maybe I can return the favor of assistance. So, tell me? What is the reason of your _unhappiness_?" Mister Master said unhappiness as if it put a bad taste in his mouth.

Lucas looked down. He noticed a patch of drying blood on his shirt. _Now how did that get there? _He asked himself. In reality, it was probably one of the other kids. Though none of the other kids touched him that day. There were so many kids with bloody hands. He couldn't possibly narrow it down to one child. The blond continued to keep his mouth shut. He wasn't doing this on purpose, but sometimes he never spoke and his lips just kind of glues themselves together.

Mister Master cleared his throat and sighed again. He obviously wasn't appreciating the silence the blond was giving. "Lucas, if you keep this up you'll be visiting the doctors and also," he picked up the baseball folder, "you'll be moving to a new room as well as gaining a new roommate."

"No!" Lucas shouted. His lips painfully separated during the outburst like a head splitting open after painfully hitting the cement ground. He knew he had it in him, he just never wanted to let it out. Lucas's eyes widened. It was the first time he had raised his voice ever in the past few days and his voice sounded so new, so fresh. Almost as if he hadn't talked when learned how to and almost as if he hadn't cried when he exited his mother's womb. But that's not what scared him the most.

Mister Master shifted behind the desk. "Well, why not?" And as Lucas mumbled something inaudible, Mister Master's thumb cracked. "What was that?"

"Because I like being alone."

Mister Master's laugh was booming and loud, so much that it made the blond jump. "Why, that must be the reason of your unneeded depression! You're so lonely! You need someone to chat with, someone to tell stories to. And plus, this boy is nice. If I think that he's nice, then you should to."

"But-"

Mister Master pressed a button with a yellow triangle and solid green background. It was a Triforce. Was he calling Toon Link? What would he need Toon Link for?

A voice came from the button. "Yes, Mister Master?"

"Link, could you please lead Lucas to Ness's room? You know where his room is, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then hurry up, please."

"Understood."

Mister Master took his finger from the button and his pinky knocked down a stack of folders that sat behind his desk. He let out yet another tired sigh and he sounded old. So, so old. "Lucas, I suggest you begin to speak or the doctors will have to get you." The tone of his voice was grim. "I don't want the doctors to get you because, well, I kind of like you. But my patience is waning with you and believe me when I say I don't want to hurt you. Others have been hurt by me, and they liked none of it. Would you like me to hurt you?"

Lucas shook his head.

"Exactly. So, please, stay on my good side. I wouldn't want to see you gone. You're my favorite client. Do you want to know why?"

Lucas nodded his head.

"You're my favorite client because you are a challenge. And do you have any idea of why you are such a challenge?"

Lucas stared at the hand, saying nothing, refusing to speak.

Mister Master chuckled. "Exactly."

* * *

"You'll like him, he's very nice." Link said with a warm smile.

Little had Lucas known that Toon Link had an "older brother", or, that's what Link said that he was. Though he said it as if he was unsure. He told Lucas to think of him as "an older brother to his younger self". That made no sense in Lucas's mind. Link was short and from the look of it, he seemed very fit. He had a mop of choppy hair, the color of it was a healthy golden brown. His eyes were a vibrant blue and his lashes were long. If Lucas had ever heard Toon Link speak, he's sure that him and Link would sound similar.

"I've known Ness for some time. He won't hurt you, I promise." Link wasn't like the others. He didn't look at Lucas with malice or the intent to do something sick. In his eyes gleamed truth and honesty. In his eyes shined ambiance and compassion.

In his eyes shined courage and honor. He had the eyes of the hero, and hopefully he'd save Lucas from the Happy Factory.

"Is that too heavy for you? I could carry it for you if you'd like," Link gestured to the box in Lucas's hands. It only had a blanket and a pillow inside. Lucas had taken the sunflower clock as well. He questioned why he had even put the darned thing in there. The box only had three items in it, yet Link acted like he was carrying a stack of heavy books. Lucas shook his head. No, he didn't need the help.

Link looked surprised, but only for a second. The surprise then turned into a small smile. "Oh, alright then. Are you sure it's not too heavy for you?"

Lucas nodded.

"You know, Ness is probably going to be really happy when he meets you. He's been in the factory for a really long time, and this whole time he's been alone in that same room. When he came here, Mister Master sent him to the doctors to help _fix _him. After they were finished with him, Ness never left his room and Mister Master kind of left him there."

Lucas kept his mouth shut and kept his eyes on the hot pink tiles that went in a checkered pattern. He didn't know what to say, how to feel. He'd never met this Ness character so he wasn't affected by this story, though he did feel some sympathy as well as fear.

The music that sputtered out of the intercoms was quiet though simultaneously upbeat. The walls had glittery designs and colorful animals. He didn't know whether the red splatters on the wall was from an unlucky someone or an artist who expressed themselves differently. Latin words in the format of a poem lit up on the ceiling in gold and crimson. _Audi famam illius _was the first line. As soon as Lucas tried to read the rest the words stopped glowing.

"We're almost there. His room is just around the corner."

At this, Lucas's heart sped up. What was Ness like? Was he… crazy? Was he one of the people who constantly screamed in agony or moaned in sexual libido? He sure hoped not. He hoped no screams of any kind would come from Ness's room.

"Lucas? We're here. You have to knock. Here, I'll hold your box."

Link grabbed the box from the child's hands and Lucas was stood frozen. He really didn't want to knock. His fists were balled up at his chest and he bit his lip. He hadn't even wanted to change rooms in the first place. Why couldn't everything stay the _same_? Already the child missed the boring lameness of his sunflower themed room and laying on its itchy green floor. They're probably renovating his room for someone else now that they have room for soon-to-be clients of the Happy Factory.

Then the world stopped when Link knocked on the door. Lucas's cerulean eyes widened and he looked up at Link with a dumbfounded expression. "Wh-why'd you-"

"Lucas, you don't have to be so afraid. Ness isn't going to hurt you. I won't hurt you. No one will hurt you. Why can't you see that? If someone does hurt you, you'll have to stand up for yourself. You know how to stand up for yourself, right?"

"Well, yeah but-"

"Then stop being such a scaredy-cat," he reached down and pinched one of Lucas's rosy cheeks.

The attention was soon brought to the doorknob which slowly began moving. Link stared at it with a smile. Lucas stared at the doorknob in downright fear. How old was Ness? What was he like? Was he pessimistic or optimistic? The questions weren't asked in curiosity but in a form of assurance. Lucas didn't care about Ness. In actuality, he only really cares about his safety. Someone told him that it's better to worry about yourself before you begin worrying about others. It was selfish, but it was also a way to survive.

The door began to open and Link was still smiling. Lucas stood behind his leg and watched as Ness opened it. Whatever was on the other side awaited Lucas. He didn't know if happily or angrily but soon he would know.

Though soon was now, and as the door opened all the way Lucas bit his lip harder and closed his eyes. Why couldn't things just stay the _same?_

* * *

_Omfg. Guys I'm gonna go see some Dis**NEY ON ICE AND** go to Katsucon on whatever day. I really might not just because I don't really want to go but hey. And for some strange reason I'm more excited for Disney on Ice than I am for Katsucon. I guess that's a good thing._

_I guess that's it._

_Um._

_Au revoir. _


	3. Ness

**The Happy Factory: Chapter 3**

**Notes**: /**awkward silence**.

I apologize greatly for the hiatus everyone! I actually had to get a whole new laptop because my old one suddenly cut off and wouldn't turn back on at all.

Then I had to rewrite, well, retype everything back up. ; - ;

But I've gotten a new laptop so new chapter for **The Happy Factory**!

**Disclaimer: **I've recently been playing the shit out of Temple Run 2.

* * *

Link looked down at Lucas and smiled. The child was an adorable kid, he really was. No one else in the Happy Factory seemed to act like him. Everyone was either confident and friendly or easy-going and carefree. It was refreshing to see someone who wasn't almost exactly the same as everyone else; though at the same time it frightened him. He was different. From the looks of it, Lucas never smiled or laughed, his lips seemed as if they were always curled downwards or in a straight line and Link didn't know if it was just him or if Lucas was a monotone enigma with a shadowed face and weak limbs. There was no doubt about it.

There were reasons to be scared for this child.

Link gave Lucas his small box and stepped to the side so that the depressed patient was face to face with his new 'friend'. Lucas hugged himself and wished he had bangs that he could timidly look up from under. But alas, his hair resembled the smooth curl of ice cream on a waffle cone; it was nothing he could hide his eyes behind. Lucas looked up from the ground and examined his new roommate.

Ness was Asian. He had a head full of ravenous black hair, his eyes a rich, dark violet. They were wide open and seemed blurry, misty, as if a storm clouded them. His eyes also had deep, heavy bags under them, on the verge of becoming a blackish-blue. His eyebrows were gone and so was the neutral expression that befitted his face. As soon as Ness had seen Lucas, a sweet and friendly smirk had found its way on his lips.

Link's smile had never seemed to fade. It never seemed to brighten either. "Ness, this is your new roommate, Lucas. Lucas, this will be your new friend, Ness. Say hi, Lucas."

The blond waved timidly.

Link felt his fingers twitch. He told Lucas to _say_ hello, not _gesture_ it. There was an obvious difference in the impact of the common greeting. If Lucas truly wanted to be Ness' friend, he had to start with friendly words and compliments. If anything, gestures and intimate actions came _after_ a certain friendship level has been reached. The blond's eyes widened slightly and his lips became tighter in his fake, plastic smile. Link silently took a deep breath and remembered his lessons. This was part of the reason why he was sent to the Happy Factory, wasn't it?

"Lucas is just a little shy, but that shouldn't be a problem, right Ness?" Link tilted his head. "You'll make him feel as comfortable as possible in his new room, right?"

Ness' smirk turned into a bright smile. Lucas thought that it was too bright for the bags under his eyes. It was too insincere. "That's right. You don't have to be shy or afraid. I won't hurt you."

Lucas fiddled with the cardboard in his hands. "Okay…" he whispered. There really was nothing else to say. Was he supposed to say that he wouldn't hurt him either? Right, as if he had the strength to damage someone.

"You don't have to be shy or afraid. I won't hurt you." Ness repeated. Lucas's eyebrows drew together.

"I heard you the fir-"

"_I won't hurt you._"

* * *

Lucas sat on Ness' bed, his thin legs hanging over the side and naked feet touching the metal frame. To be polite, Ness allowed the blond to sleep on his bed until further notice from the Inspectors. They were the ones that came in and painted the walls of your room and added a piece of furniture or two to the space. The theme of Ness' room was a baseball park. There were plenty of tiny lights that imitated the flickers of cameras, stadium lamps and glares reflecting off of plastic dewdrops on the carpet. Lucas began to think that this room was better than his.

Either that or they had put more effort into this room.

The thought made Lucas roll his eyes. That wasn't the case. If the Happy Factory wanted everyone to be happy, then the room that they put the patients in had to fit their likes and favorites right? So they'd act a little bit more sane, right? Lucas adored sunflowers and the fields that they grew in. How the Inspectors knew that, he didn't know. The only person he confessed his love for sunflowers to was his mother. Some days, she would come home with flowers that she never kept up with. The flora would always rot and wilt and when that happened they would be thrown away when they put a bad mood into the room. Lucas's mother went from blooming red roses to bright yellow tulips. Every flower she bought she let die in sadness.

One day before Hinawa had left out to get more flowers, Lucas had stopped her at the door asking for her to this time purchase sunflowers, because he had taken a liking to them. His mother had given a warm smile and gentle sounding okay and she left for the small shop that sold flowers on the corner of Little Bird avenue.

That was also the day he had been taken away.

Lucas never liked to recall the memory. He had always seen sunflowers in paintings and pictures but seeing one before his eyes and being able to touch its most likely soft petals… he'd always hoped and dreamed. But dreams usually never come true. And since the two were connected, hope always seemed the one to be crushed with her sighing sister; only a select few could keep these two things alive and well.

"Lucas."

The blond picked his head up, wanting desperately to rub at the back of his neck, but he kept his arms still. "Yes?"

Ness squinted his eyes and he suddenly looked so ghoulish with his clouded irises and heavy, dark circles. He glanced down with a sleep-deprived grin. He looked to young to be this tired. "I like your name… Lucas," Ness said it as if he were trying on a new pair of sneakers. "It sounds really… light and fluffy. Just like your hair." The raven-haired child picked at a few threads in the carpet, pulling them from the floor and flicking them else where.

"Um… thank you," Lucas replied. It was new, the compliment. He didn't like his hair much, but at least someone approved of the questionable style. Though the off thing about the childish praise was that Lucas's hair wasn't light. It was more of a 'sunset yellow' or at least that's what his Hinawa saw it as.

"I also like your jumpsuit. Yellow really suits you, Lucas."

"Thank you," Lucas said uncertainly. He stared at Ness' overalls. "I…um, really like your outfit, too." The fabric was a bright blue with yellow pockets and a red, long-sleeved shirt pulled up at the elbows was underneath.

Ness smiled. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

Lucas hesitantly nodded and averted his eyes to stare at the wall. He felt uncomfortable. He had never liked talking to people, but it was never this bad. Maybe it was just Ness. The boy did seem a little… odd. The bags under his eyes showed that Ness was going through something and whatever it was seemed to be haunting him in his sleep. The frightening vividness of sweet dreams gone sadistic… it was disappointing, in lack of better words. When you sleep, you're supposed to get away from reality's evils, not come back to what would be considered far worse.

"Can I?"

Lucas turned his head to see Ness staring at him from the ground, his rough hands stroking the blond's leg. The limb was thin and almost hard to look at. His knees were red and had scrapes; some had faded while others were still a bright crimson. Lucas's calves seemed to only be about four to five inches, if not that then less. He didn't eat. He could never trust the food that the Happy Factory had offered. At some point Lucas decided to give up and just eat, but when Toon Link had pulled a finger from his mouth with an expression of horror, that was the last time Lucas had made a trip to the cafeteria. Now his whole body was a stick; he was positively malnourished. Lucas was sure the bones of his ribs were showing and his cheeks were most likely hollow, but he didn't care. It was too hard to.

Though the question was this: why was there a tired child asking to stroke the skin of another person's body? A person he had just met? Lucas blinked, once then twice, before awkwardly pushing Ness' hand away, looking everywhere but at the boy. "U-um… no," he had whispered. He had just met Ness, he wouldn't let himself be touched by him. When Ness had attempted to paw at Lucas again, the blond had scooted away, wrinkling the sheets and causing a small teddy to fall to the ground, a quiet squeak soon following.

"Don't touch me," Lucas said, his voice wavering just the slightest. "It feels weird."

Ness got up. "Do I feel weird? Do my hands feel too rough or-"

"No, it's just… you can't touch me like_ that_."

"Like that? Like _how_?"

Lucas drew his eyebrows together. Before this boy came here, didn't he have a way of meeting and greeting people? The only touching you should really do when you first meet someone is during a handshake. "You know… like _stroking_ and _rubbing_." When Ness looked confused Lucas went on. "Like… ah, you can't touch in certain places in certain ways. Get it?"

The Asian silently nodded before asking, "And where would certain places be?"

Lucas's shoulders had fallen. What did the Doctors do to him?

* * *

Toon Link watched his shadow as he trotted down a hallway leading to his room. After classes were over, the small blond had ran into Link. His older "brother" had bent down and given him a kiss on the forehead, a sugar cookie and an affectionate pat on the head. He had told Toon Link to be ready for his sign language lessons later on in the day.

The blond sighed. Nobody else in the Happy Factory knew sign language, let alone what it was. Why was Link teaching him this way of speaking that no one else knew how to speak? Everyone in the Happy Factory seemed too daft to be able to understand simple concepts and easy problems that could be solved without trouble. Why these patients couldn't solve them, Toon Link didn't know. He just knew that almost everyone around him was _stupid_.

It was rude, but it was the truth. No one knew basic math problems, no a soul had a speck of common sense. Sometimes Toon Link encountered _adults_ who could only go up to the letter 'D' in the alphabet. It was so weird, as if these beings never had a life before they came to the Happy Factory.

Toon Link turned a corner and stood before a gray door. Looking down at his feet, he noticed the usual spraying of water coming from underneath the hatch. Bracing himself, Toon Link opened the door, feeling a violent gush of water hit his tummy. It sent him backwards some, the wave, and the blond had to desperately hold onto the knob of the door so not to be carried away by the miniature current. After a few more seconds, all the water had drained out of his room and into the hallway.

Awkwardly slipping through the door, Toon Link stepped in puddles and puddles of salty water, trying his best to ignore the spouting of clear liquid from the wall next to him. As he closed the door, the water was already beginning to rise, coming to his ankles quickly. The irritated child hurriedly ran to the other side of the room, grabbing hold of a brown rope and pulling a red, boat-shaped bed next to the door. He tied the rope to a rusty hook that sat on the walls of pure ugliness and damage. The water made the wallpaper peel and caused the windows that couldn't open to become foggy and dirty. No matter how much he rubbed, he could never see the outside.

Toon Link sat on his bed and grimaced at the feeling of a damp mattress and wet sheets. He glared at the water that was rising at a dangerously fast pace. His frown deepened when a minuscule drift rocked the bed, causing his pillow to fall into the water.

Toon Link wanted to scream so, so loudly. But if he did, no sound would come out. It was one of the joys of being in a room that could possibly drown him. What if, one day, he had to let the water out, but he couldn't open the door?

At first the thought angered the blond, his ears and cheeks burning red in malice. But then that anger had altered into grief as tears started to roll down plump cheeks, the drops of pain and misery coming in fat lachryma. The quiet melancholic weeping had then turned into silent screams of anguish and sorrow.

Behind those inaudible yells of agony, there was the faintest sound of jingling bells.

* * *

**Christ, I'd hate to have to be in that room. **

**I can't swim. At all. O_O**

**Oh! I kinda sorta have a soundtrack for this story too! I'll update my profile and you'll be able to see the songs I listen to in order to help me write this creepy-ass story. :T**

**And if I make any mistakes, please inform me! I'll feel awkward but don't worry, it'll help me as a writer! / O w 0 /**

**I hate using explanation points but for some reason I'm using them a lot right now!**

**Until next time! *dances away***


	4. Insomnia

**The Happy Factory**

**Chapter Four:**

**Insomnia**

* * *

**Notes**: So yeah a **warning** 'cause… I guess some stuff happens in this chapter? A mentioning of suicide, beatings and nothing good I guess… But, I mean, this is the Happy Factory. Nothing good comes out of it.

**Disclaimer**: Rumors have been going around that Lucas won't be in the next Smash Bros. Do you know how that makes me feel? FURIOUS, OUTRAGED, SICK WITH ANGER! Haha but no seriously I love Ghirahim.

* * *

Lucas felt his tongue slowly go dry. His throat itched and his butt felt numb from sitting on the bed for so long, unmoving and still. His thin legs still hung off the side of the bed and cerulean eyes stared at the carpet, dry and unblinking.

He was tired. So, so tired.

Ness had come at him with so many questions. It was one after another, after another, _after another _and he just wouldn't stop. Simple questions like 'how do you use the bathroom?' left Lucas wondering if Ness _did_ use the bathroom. And if he did, then where? There were no stains on the carpet, on the wall or anywhere else. The bed didn't even have a questionable smell.

Lucas had a guess in mind of what Ness did with his urine. But he chose not to think about it anymore.

The lights on the carpet and walls still blinked. Ness breathed slowly and he continued to pick threads from the carpet, throwing them in a growing pile of loose fibers.

It was quieter down in this hallway, practically silent. No sounds were being made other than the noise that a flickering light outside the door made. The still scene caused Lucas to feel nervous. Like something would happen at any second. Back in his old hallway, there were screams, cries, yells, bawls. Sometimes Lucas didn't know if someone was laughing in innocent amusement or pure hysteria. He could usually tell because whenever someone laughed in hysteria, a dreadful bellow would follow, calling, screeching, _pleading_ for help.

But he knew that no one ever did help. No one ever helped another in the silly little place they call the Happy Factory.

Lucas sighed and scooted himself to the dark brown headboard, closing his eyes. He knew this was Ness's bed, and Ness could've done things in this bed that he dare not think of but at the moment, he didn't care. The time he spent doing nothing but moving lethargically about the factory and answering Ness's constant questions tired him. He wanted to sleep.

But the eyes watching him wouldn't let him enter dreamland.

Lucas opened his eyes and looked over to Ness, feeling his heart quicken at how close he had gotten. Lucas pushed the boy away and watched him hit the floor. "What're you doing?"

Ness sat up, rubbing his arms. "What're _you_ doing?"

"I'm trying to sleep."

"Sleep?"

_Oh God… _Lucas thought to himself staring at the boy on the floor. _Please don't tell me he doesn't know how to sleep. _"Yes. Sleep… You do know how to sleep, right?"

"Of course I do." Ness sounded offended.

"Well then why won't you go to sleep?"

"Because I…" After that Ness was silent. His mouth hung open, words formulating in his brain but not reaching his pink tongue. He looked confused, lost, and before Lucas knew it the boy had crawled to the pile of pulled carpet threads and lay his head on that, pulling his knees to his chest and trying to make himself warm.

"I can give you your blanket and your pillow," Lucas offered. A small _no I'm okay _met his ears and Lucas shrugged, taking his back off the headboard and sprawling himself on the bed. As soon as he closed his eyes again, he was out like a light, and he began to dream sweet dreams that mostly involved his high-spirited brother.

Claus had long since disappeared from Lucas's life. He committed suicide at the timid age of thirteen and constantly left his family asking _why_. They lived in a peaceful neighborhood, he was friends with almost everyone at school and he lived a nice life with caring parents and a sweet brother and everything.

He left no note, he left no video. But he did leave himself lying on the family's floral couch, lips blue, skin pale and eyes unseeing. His still hand gripped a knife that was lodged into his chest, into his heart.

But Lucas didn't want to remember that in his dream. He wanted to remember a time before that when they ate cold pineapples on scorching summer days and played in orange and red piles of leaves with their dog, Boney.

But one dream stood out the most. Lucas and Claus had been running about throughout an endless house. Every hall led to another, every door opened to countless more rooms. The house was dimly lit. There were no windows, there were no signs of another life.

But the twins did find a pair of steps.

They hopped down those steps, hop, hop, hop, until a grand oak door stood before them, shining brightly and glowing luminously. The doorbell dinged and chimed and it was practically calling, yelling, reaching for the two boys. With excited smiles that would be seen on Christmas Day, Claus and Lucas ran up to the door and the redhead opened it with ease. The blond couldn't wait to see what was outside this dark, windowless home. He had a feeling that he knew, but it still excited him that he would be getting out.

What if there were mountains of ice cream outside the door? Or what if the sun was made out of an omelet? And what if Lucas and Claus had to jump up high, so high, so that they could get the tasty breakfast meal and eat it until the world became dark because they had just eaten their substitute sun? The guesses of what were outside the door were endless and just as Claus opened the door, the blond had shot his eyes open. He shot his eyes open because there was a scream.

A piercing scream so loud that Lucas could practically feel blood pouring from his ears.

And that piercing scream was coming straight from Ness.

Sitting up quickly, Lucas looked to the boy that slept on the pile of pulled threads and felt himself scooting closer to the wall at what he saw. Ness was gripping at his coal locks, kicking his feet, jerking his body about on the carpeted ground. Tears streaked down his cheeks and he banged his head on the floor. Ness yelled at somebody or something to stop hurting him, stop harming him, stop making him scared.

Lucas covered his ears. The cries got louder with every passing second and the blond wondered how anyone could possibly ignore this. The younger boy wanted to close his eyes and fall back asleep, see what was behind the opening door, but Ness wouldn't stop. His jaw hung wide open with each new screech, and each new screech made his jaw crackle, pop. It would dislodge if he continued.

Shaking his head, Lucas couldn't bear it anymore. He uncovered his ears and winced at the loudness that his roommate's yells carried. The blond shook Ness, shook him until his arms became tired, sore. But when that happened he still didn't stop because he wanted Ness to stop crying. He wanted him to stop being scared of whatever was making him afraid.

He wanted him to stop hurting.

When the desperate shaking didn't work, Lucas began to hit Ness. At first they were light taps but then they became slaps that echoed throughout the dimly lit room. Why wouldn't he wake up?

"Ness?" Lucas called. "Ness? Wake up, Ness!" He struggled with yelling over the screams. "Ness, Ness, Ness, Ness, _Ness_-"

The blond was going to try again but silence had finally welcomed him. The quiet was also accompanied by the light fluttering of dark eyelashes. Ness's body shook, and when Lucas grabbed a pale hand he found it quivering violently under his warm touch.

"Lucas-"

"Shh, Ness. Are you okay?"

"Am I… okay?" His voice sounded so strained, so dry, so weak.

Lucas nodded. "Y-you were screaming and crying and kicking your legs and stuff."

"Huh… was I really?"

Lucas nodded again and Ness hummed. He squeezed the pale hand tighter when more tears came from the boy below him, except these were more distressed than the anguished ones that left his eyes only seconds ago.

"Lucas?"

"Hm?"

"I want to get out of here."

"… I do too, Ness."

* * *

Link rubbed the brunette's hip, ignoring how uneven the part in her hair looked. He dared not glance down at her chipped nails, her scratched hands, the lopsided black Triforce she got tattooed onto her wrist. Her breathing was irregular which caused Link to see colors. He could never look her in the eye because of the heterochromatic irises that stared into his body, his soul. The dirty blond's hips bucked and he pushed himself in, out, growling at the noises of bliss his partner made.

Link didn't like it, no not one bit.

He loved Zelda with every fiber of his being, but she was so imperfect, unbalanced. Even the hole of her bleeding anus looked sloppy, disproportionate. But he chose to pay no mind.

But the asymmetrical spinal cord, the way one shoulder was lower than the other, even the unequal shoving that he did only made the colors brighter, sharper. He closed his eyes, but they were still there, unmoving, taunting. He slapped his forehead, used the heel of his hand to bash himself in the head. He wanted to get the colors out. He needed to get the colors out.

Zelda let out a moan that sounded disharmonious and Link gave her a harsh strike on her back with one of his brown belts, a red lash mark appearing. She was only causing the colors to brighten.

He continued to thrust in, listening as his lover's imperfect voice kept up its ongoing symphony of chaotic groans and sounds of pleasure.

Link didn't like it, no not one bit.

With every muddled moan came a whip of his brown belt, with every messy groan came another mark to sit on the girl's back. The dirty blond didn't know whether she was enjoying it or not but the sentence that came from her uneven lips only made the colors shine so bright he became blind to what was around him.

"I'm telling Sheik you've been harming me."

Link quickly pulled himself out and pushed Zelda away. He didn't know where because of the blinding colors, but it sounded like a wall. He grabbed another one of his belts, both his hands occupied, and unseeingly came at the girl, using her nasty screams and horrible cries as a power to continue his beating, his whipping, his thrashing.

When the cries stopped, the colors went and Link was left to look down at his lover, bloody and bruised and still so uneven. The sight was unnerving, and he found himself frowning at the blood that dripped from his brown belts. His frown deepened when he saw a mixture of white amongst the red, and he remembered his bare bottom, his dangling manhood.

Link didn't like it, no not one bit.

* * *

Toon Link cried into his already wet pillow. He hated having to hear Zelda scream like that. Knowing that his brother was the one causing her pain only made him sob harder into the damp cushion. When the noises stopped, he knew that he should've ceased the weeping, that his sadness was to be reduced to sniffles because at least Link was done.

But the tears still came and Toon Link accidentally swallowed some of the salt water, his mouth instantly going dry. That's when he stopped.

The water slowly lifted him to the ceiling and the small boy weakly lifted himself up, glaring down at the water around him with a malice so intense. He threw one leg over the side and then the other. The blond slipped off the bed and entered the water, swimming towards the closed door. He opened it and, as usual, the salty liquid drained out.

Water got into his eyes and Toon Link wanted desperately to get the sting out, to stop the hurting. But his hands were wet, and it'd be useless to put more water into his eyes.

So he cried to make the pain disappear. And it worked.

Though his ability to see was disappearing, faster than it had been for the last few days, and Toon Link hoped and prayed that he wouldn't become blind, too.

But he found out with more tears and a heavy heart that hoping doesn't always work.

* * *

_Thank you for the reviews that y'all have left! They fill my heart with rainbows!_

_Okay I'll stop with the Ghirahim stuff._


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